Venice: A Labyrinth for Romantics

Only a few cities in the world come close to matching the mystical beauty of Venice, Italy. It is an island where vehicles are prohibited on land, while boats traverse the crossword puzzle of murky green canals through the labyrinth of buildings. Buses are large boats.  Taxis are water taxis. Romantics may hire a gondola for a hand-pushed ride in those long and skinny Venetian boats, best for small parties.

 Above sea level, walking by foot is the only other choice. Here, no bicycles are found, no motorized scooters or tiny Smart cars are allowed.  Here, the island is a life away from the rest of the world.  A sort of paradise for romantics.  In the winter months, Venice is a cold and not so pleasant place.  Being located on the sea seems to chill even the warmest bones no matter how many layers of clothing. The benefit of going that time of year is the number of tourists drastically decrease.  Off season numbers are fantastic, including off season pricing for hotels and as airfare. 

 But in spring, autumn, and summer in particular, Venice may be crowded, but it has a magic to it.  The flowers are in full bloom delighting the nose and the eyes. The evening temperatures are comfortable, where nights show people wearing perfectly appropriate shorts, shirts or light dresses.  The charm of the city is discovered through evening strolls in the largest public square, Piazza di San Marco.  There, centuries ago, visitors arrived at their docks to a large palace, called the Doge Palace, and a beautiful basilica, the Basilica of San Marco.  Today, people stand in awe at the immaculately detailed and wonderfully preserved mosaic and sculpture-filled facades of the religious institution. Truly, it is a jewel not to be missed both at day time and night.

 In the very same piazza, at least one live band plays easy listening instrumental-only hits. One band prefers to showcase their accordionist. Another, more of a jazz ensemble, highlights their talent through the liquid yet playful clarinet. Every one of them has a pianist and drummer.  Behind the band is the entrance to the restaurant sponsoring the musical group.  In front of them are seventy tables for two, tempting passers-by to sit down and enjoy just a few more pieces over a refreshing Bellini  the peach and prosecco concoction originating from Venice. Falling in love with everything has never been so easy.

 At Carnevale, the annual festival right before Lent, people wear masks and have done so for hundreds of years. Because of this age-old tradition, they are sold, it seems, in every other store on the island.  From the bright and colorful to the blank, unpainted varieties, masks of every odd mold and design are uniquely Venetian.

 Murano is nearby Venice, an easy boat ride to an island of artisans.  Their handmade glass is unique and known worldwide, considered very good quality. Art-lovers are lucky.  They don’t have to go to Italy just to get the beautiful products.  They can find Murano glass nearly everywhere, as vendors understand the demand for hand-crafted excellence.

Beautiful glass, odd shaped masks, canals, labyrinths and charm. Venice is easily one of the cities that make Italy so great. Have you ever been there?  What did you like best about Venice?

Rustic Bean, Sausage and Fennel Soup

It feels like late autumn.  The days are overcast, exuding a darkness that inspires laying in bed. Rain showers intermittently drop through the falling grape leaves covering my walkway. The loosest leaves succumb to the heavy liquid as it drops from the skies, creating a sound absorbing, earthy-smelling cover to the concrete.  The air is more than crisp.  It leaves a chill in my bedroom only a cozy bed can combat, and layers upon layers of covers.

On this fine fall day, it's true, I wanted to stay in bed.  But the refrigerator called and it said, "Feed me." It had been bare for more than a day now and no longer could I live off of the things that never seem to go bad, like chestnut honey or that never ending bottle of vermouth.  Off to the grocery store I went and I was greeted with an Italian, "Good day," by the always pleasant female vagabond who unfailingly sits in front of the store every day, happy to accept any spare coin in my pocket. I reply hello but have no change to give her and walk through the market's doors. 

As it happens, going to the supermarket in Italy is all about timing. My usual store opens at 9:00am.  If you go right when it opens, that's when the employees are restocking the shelves.  These are the times when I know I don't need salad, vegetables or fruit.  Because the produce specialist working that time doesn't seem to get to the task until about 10:00am.  But the locals seem to be keen on this fact, because by 10:30am, the store is packed.  And that's when the battle begins for the red plastic handcarts. 

Already the stack is empty so I walk to the cash registers where people empty their carts to pick one up.  None are there as well.  Just a long line of people waiting to buy their groceries.  But, alas, my luck has arrived, because a lady has only two items left in her cart.  I walk forward slowly, beginning to spelunk my way through the thin passage of overflowing carts and tall people.  Almost there, I think of how to approach the woman as she empties her last item from the cart.  Excuse me, miss, may I have that? Yes, that would be the right way.  I will be formal, polite, and stunningly knowledgeable of how to ask someone for their cart in Italian.

Right when I'm about to open my mouth, my competitor got the best of me, a middle-aged woman who snuck up right behind me, saw an opening, took it, and now stood in front of me asking for the cart.

Cartless, I turn around and peak through the rest of the cashier lanes.  Excellent!  Someone accidentally placed their empty one on the other side, hidden to most, but thankfully, I'm taller than the average Italian, or so I like to think. So I grab that before anyone else can and I'm on the way to grocery buying history.

All I had on the mind was food fit for fall weather.  I needed to make something warm, full of body, something that said this is autumn. And when I got to the butcher section, I saw the excellent variety of sausages, thin, fat, long, short. And right under my nose sat two lonely packages, nearly obscure due to their front positioning. What caught my attention was their sickly dark color. Not gray, not black, but something bordering improper.  Was this blood sausage?  No, not dark enough but I wish it were.  I've made a superb Catalan (spanish) soup using blood sausage before so I wasn't exactly afraid of the stuff. No matter.  It was different than any of the other kinds available and I instantly knew I could create great soup with some complementary products. As I walked away, I noticed these were sitting next to packaged tripe, cow tongue and other offal parts. A good sign.  Those less adventurous may disagree with that notion. 

I grabbed a multicolored bag of dried beans which were considered "rustic" according to the label.  Would you want soup any other way? Then it was off to the produce section and even though I wasn't sure what part of the pig this sausage was made from, I knew some diced vegetables would greatly add to it.  Who could pass up fresh fennel when it looks so good?

Some several hours later, may I present to you... tonight's dinner:  VASGO's Rustic Bean and Fennel Soup, with Pork Liver Sausage.

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1 bag of mixed dried beans

3 large stalks celery

4 large carrots

1 medium fennel bulb, fronds removed

1 medium green bell pepper

1 yellow onion

5 cloves garlic

1 Tablespoon dried oregano

1/2 Tablespoon black pepper 

4 links fresh pork liver sausage (if you can find it!)
Any type of crusty, springy bread to soak up the liquid in between bites, such as sourdough.

Speed soak the dried beans in a large soup pot, about 1.5 hours total. Do NOT add salt or your beans will never cook properly. During that, dice all the vegetables, mix all together. In a fry pan, saute vegetable mix with olive oil over medium/medium-high heat until carrot pieces can be pierced easily with a fork. Do in batches if necessary. Add to bean soup/bean broth when beans are ready for their secondary cooking. Add oregano and black pepper to liquid. Place pork liver sausages in the soup and let simmer for an hour or two.  Remove sausages and let cool. Skim fat from soup's surface. Slice sausages into thin rounds. Add back into soup, add salt as desired. Serve. 

Mmmmmm.... home made soup....

I should also mention, a few shakes of the old Tabasco bottle gives it a surprisingly Cajun feel that shouldn't be missed if you like that type of thing.

Rome's Restaurant Week

For the life of me, I can't understand why November isn't considered part of the high travel season in Rome. This is possibly one of the best months to visit Rome.

This is the month when the best festivals take place.  Olives are pressed, the newest wines are uncorked from last year's harvest.  It is easily two of Italy's favorite things.  But then there's also the colder weather.  Sure, it's a little rainy, but the air is crisp. Scarves wrap every neck and people look more than good as they eagerly show off their newest fall purchases.  The air mingles scents of wood-burning fires from each pizzeria with the sweet smokey chestnuts of the street side vendors. Later in the month, lights will be hung down main streets and the Christmas markets will pop up to children's delights everywhere.

Indeed, November is a great time of year. And in Rome, it just got even better, all because this week was Restaurant Week! (Nov. 5-11) Here, have a log with some sweets on it!

More than a month ago, the participating restaurants were announced.  Some were great, others not so much.  The best of the best had their time slots full within days.  This year's list can be found here.

For 25 Euros, most people were offered a three course menu.  Not a bad deal if you chose well.

But then some places had stars next to their name. Some stars were red, others were gold, and one even had two gold stars.  What did this all mean?

It turns out some of the restaurants could "up" their game, something I don't recall seeing during Restaurant Weeks in Philadelphia or New York City.  In my opinion, it's a good idea which benefits both parties.  The restaurant makes more money while the consumer eats a better meal. I just want it to be extra good if I'm going to be paying more, like this meal at Metamorfosi... 

The amuse bouche - perfectly cooked chicken bite with fresh herbs and a light orange sauce, perfect with the complimentary glass of prosecco they gave us.

A modern take on carbonara with a 65 degree Celsius cooked egg, guanciale pieces and a pecorino foam.

Sweet onion risotto with snails in a light pesto at the bottom.

Lamb roulade, herb blend on the inside, outside: fennel, dill, awesome, perfectly cooked.

Pre-dessert lollipop: White chocolate coated gorgonzola pop in a  port sauce.

We had to splurge on real dessert, called Torrefazione 2.0. Dark chocolate shell, hazelnut gelato center, sugary foam at the bottom then they pour hot coffee on top to split open the center.  Then pour on puffed rice to add another level of texture.

And finally, post-dessert dessert. Delicious cookie with real raspberry puree, pineapple gelee with a  passionfruit gel, and a dark chocolate lollipop with a coffee truffle center.

Red stars mean the meal costs 35 Euros.  This is to make up for the use of better ingredients. This meal was the best 35 Euro I have ever spent.  And then of course, I spent more for the extra dessert and the bottle of wine, but wow, Metamorfosi was a stunning experience.  Talk about forward-thinking Italian cuisine!

For more info on the restaurant, go to their website: http://metamorfosiroma.it/

A single gold star means the restaurant has earned a Michelin star.  They charge an extra 15 Euros per person for better ingredients and service.

And two gold stars means the restaurant has earned two Michelin stars.  They charge an extra 30 Euros per person.

Restaurant Week to me always meant a "somewhat" better deal to be able to try a restaurant's offerings.At Metamorfosi in Rome, it was an outstanding deal. The other restaurant I went to earlier this week... not even worth mentioning. A disappointment for the 35 euro.

Have you ever been to a restaurant week dinner? What city was it in and why did you like/dislike it?

Olive Season

November in Italy means olive season!  Those small green or black berries are just waiting to be picked, only a small percentage destined for the salty bath we all know as brine will make them wholly edible.  The rest will be thrown into the press.  Olive oil, here we come!

The single largest olive tree I have ever seen, simply MUST be hundreds and hundreds of years old, located at the ancient Villa Adriana (Hadrian's Villa) in Tivoli, Italy.

My latest article can be found here: http://www.made-in-italy.com/travel-to-italy/news/harvesting-olives-in-november